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Unwisely: Part 6

From here. Continued warning for relationship violence and self-harm. Also, for people who have been reading both the posts and the trigger warning notes the whole time, this is, I think, where things become more explicit.

The first time, it’s hard to see the argument starting. Which is not to say that the first time meant our first argument. Practically every other conversation we had either started out as or turned into an argument. We were okay with that; hell, we enjoyed it.

“Would you rather just turn it in with that conclusion or would you like to work out in again?” I asked just before midterms.

“If I left my paper as is,” he followed, “would that give you more time to get yours done?”

“It might,” I shrugged. “Why?”

“Because then I might get to spend more time with you… you know… socially.”

On some topics, there was room for agreement.

Even where we didn’t agree, couldn’t, it’s far, I think, to point out that we didn’t argue for the sake of arguing. We didn’t bait one another, and we didn’t play devil’s advocate.

“I would like that,” he continued, “and, if we’re being totally honest–”

“There was a time when we weren’t?” I looked at him quizzically.

“This is a new thing,” he clarified, “but it would be nice to meet somewhere other than on or near campus.”

Which was kind of a tricky situation, considering that I was bending the truth enough to my parents. To be somewhere other than where I said I was would be a deception more concrete than I could manage on short notice. “I could maybe manage something for next week.”

“Or you could just tell them.”

“No.”

He sighed, sad and slow, looping an arm around my shoulders. “It’s hard. I’m not okay being a secret.”

“I don’t know what to do.” I placed one of my hands over his. “I know my parents. Realistically, the choices are present secret or past. Past us.”

4 comments on “Unwisely: Part 6”

Tori, I don’t want to say I’ve been “enjoying” your story— that can’t be the right word this time— but I appreciate that you’re sharing it, and I do enjoy your writing style and honesty.

Also, I’ve been to a few yoga classes lately, and that makes me think of you. Hard work, that yoga! I’m weak and unskilled, but I always walk out of the class feeling like some kind of mighty-yet-gracious conqueror.

As for the yoga, a big part of it for me has been both brain and muscle memory. In other words, it’s been more important for my body to know what it’s doing and for my brain to recognize that my body knows what it’s doing than it is for me to actually have a lot of strength or flexibility in a pose. When it’s unfamiliar, that’s when my brain (and then body) goes all wonky.